Cigarettes
by Delas
Summary: Spike. Buffy. Everyone's favorite love birds. One's a vampire killing Slayer. The other is a vampire. Not a match made in heaven, but it could work. Maybe. **COMPLETE**
1. Random Door Destruction

Title doesn't really have that much to do with the story. Plus, I suck at titles. The story I can write. But the titles? I think it's a mental block. Well, this is for Buffy and Spike. Cause you don't always get a chance, and I wanted to give them one. 

**Cigarettes,**

Written by Delas

Cigarettes. It always came down to the cigarettes. This time was certainly no exception.

"SPIKE! Spike, I know you can hear me!" Buffy screamed as she beat on the crypt door. She'd been at it for five minutes and her hands were beginning to get sore. Normally she'd just leave. Unfortunately for Spike, she'd found one of his cigarette butts in Dawn's room. Not to mention that the whole place reeked of smoke. And strangely enough, she had found a blood stain on the carpet. It looked as if someone had tried really hard to get it out, and had done a pretty good job on it, but it was still a slightly different shade than the rest of the carpet.

"Spike, get out here! Don't make me break down your door!" She cocked her head to the side, listening. Receiving no answer, or any noise for that matter, she took that as an open invitation to go ahead and beat his door into submission. Which she did with vigor. The door crumbled to pieces around her feet and she strode into Spike's crypt, fully ready to kick some vampire ass.

What she wasn't ready for was what met her eyes. Spike was lying on the floor, blood stains radiating out from his body as if he had been bleeding for days. Even from her distance, she could see the bruises and cuts that covered his face. She guessed he was asleep and as she was standing there he let out a low moan, but didn't move.

Carefully, Buffy walked up to Spike and kneeled at his side, placing a hand on his chest and staring down at him in concern. Normally it would have puzzled her to be so concerned over him, a vampire, but for some reason all she could do was worry if he was all right. 

"Spike? Spike, can you hear me? What happened?" Buffy asked, shaking him slightly in the hopes of waking him up. Spike stirred, but didn't open his eyes. Then his mouth opened a little and moved, as if he were trying to talk.

Buffy leaned in closer, putting her ear right next to his mouth. She heard him say in the faintest of whispers-

"Ow." 

She let out a snort of disgust and leaned away. 

"Yeah, ow. Looks like you got hit by a semi truck or something. Did you? Cause if you did, I can call the trucking company for you and complain."

Spike's lips turned upward at the corners ever so slightly. 

Buffy let out a small laugh, pleased for some reason to get a reaction out of him. Then her face turned serious. 

"Really though Spike, what happened?"

Spike opened his eyes and looked up at her. He didn't say anything, just stared at her. At her hair, her face, her hands, her lips, her body… as if everything about her were an object of curiosity. 

Buffy blushed in spite of herself. Then scolded herself at having such a reaction. _Bad Buffy, bad! Don't think of the sexy vampire. VAMPIRE. Vampire = Evil._

Spike's arms slowly moved as he tried to prop himself up. He let out an involuntary hiss of pain as his body protested and slid back to the ground.

"Here let me help you." Buffy slide her arm under his back and slowly pulled him into a sitting position, trying to be gentle and aware all the while of the look of pain on his face. 

"Can you stand?" 

Spike stared at her for a moment, as if judging her, then slowly shook his head.

"Don't think so, love."

She bit her lip at his response, but if it was from the 'love' comment or the fact that he was in such bad shape, she couldn't tell. 

"Alright. I'll move you to the couch." She carefully slide her other arm under his legs and lifted him up as if he weighed nothing. Which, actually, didn't seem far from the truth. He weighed practically nothing. Buffy frowned. 

"Are you on a diet Spike?"

He shook slightly in her arms and she took that as laughter.

"Not really, no. Though it might've been that fat free blood I've been getting lately." He said, his voice a bit rough. 

Buffy laughed, feeling reassured. _He must not be hurt that bad if he can joke, right? Unless he doesn't want me to worry. But why would he even care?_

Buffy set him down on the couch, wondering dimly in the back of her mind when he had gotten it. It was a nice leather couch, comfy looking, and Buffy was almost sorry to ruin it with the blood stains. _Worrying about his furniture now? Geez Buffy, you got it bad._

"You still haven't told me what happened, Spike." 

Spike gave a small shrug and stared of into space. 

"Just a run-in with one of Glory's little monks. The wanker thought he could get the little niblet, and he brought a nasty to help out. You were out patrolling and I just happened to be wandering by so I decided to have a little fun and help out."

"Someone was after Dawn?! Why didn't she tell me?"

"How should I know? She probably didn't want to worry you. You've got enough to worry about without adding something else to the list."

Buffy stared down at him. From this close he looked even worse. _That must have been one hell of a demon, _Buffy thought._ There had to be more to it. He's sugar coating it for me so I won't get worried..._

Buffy chewed her fingernail, her face set in a frown. 

"I'm giving Glory to much free reign. We've got to do something, and soon."

"Yeah, but you've got find her first--" Spike started, but stopped as he convulsed in pain, his fists clenching at his side. Buffy could see him grind his teeth together and bite back a scream. 

"What-what is it? Spike?!"

Spike let out a low moan. His back arched back in agony and his eyes desperately sought her out, pleading with her to help him.

"Spike what's wrong with you?" Buffy frantically asked. Spike stayed taunt for a few more seconds, his mouth open in a silent scream, before relaxing. His eyes rolled back in his head. 

"Spike?!" Buffy shook him lightly and was surprised to find he was warm. Unnaturally warm. How had she not noticed that before? She placed a hand on his chest. He was practically radiating heat. Pulling back his shirt and checking over his wounds, she found them a sickly green color.

"Poison." She whispered. She was suddenly torn with indecision. Should she leave and go get help, or should she stay with him? She'd never seen him like this and it frightened her, more than she cared to admit. 

Her decision was made for her when Spike suddenly grabbed her tightly by the arm. 

"Don't leave."

Buffy jumped in surprise, then looked down at him gently.

"I'll be right here."

Spike smiled and fell silent. Buffy sat there nervously for a few minutes, staring at his face. She couldn't help herself. She had to admit, he was rather handsome. And he had a nice body, even if it was a little… bloody and nasty at the moment. She knew she should be doing something to help him. After all, he was only like this because he had helped Dawn. 

Buffy stood up and began to pace. _Agh, I can't sit still. I'm going stir crazy! I can't just leave him like this. But I can't actually leave either. I wish Giles were here. He'd know what to do. This is his sort of thing. Mystical creatures… mystical venomous__ creatures. Oh man, why'd it have to be Spike?!_

Spike's fridge sat in the corner and Buffy glanced at it having a sudden flash of inspiration. 

"Blood! Spike's a vampire, he's gonna need blood! Probably a lot, considering most of it's on the floor… and on that really comfy couch…"

Proud at herself for figuring out something helpful to do, she waltzed over to the fridge and whipped it open, nearly pulling the door off.

"Dear god, look at all the alcohol… it's like a friggin' bar in here." Buffy pushed the many bottles aside, rummaging around for Spike's containers of blood. She found one way back in the corner, behind a jumbo bottle of Jack Daniels. She tugged it out and set it on the counter, closing the door behind her. She looked around for something to pour it in but, finding nothing, just shrugged and walked the container carefully back to Spike. 

She put the container on the floor next to Spike. 

"Guy doesn't even have a coffee table…" Buffy muttered to herself, then picked up a rag she found thrown in the corner. She walked back to the fridge, took out a bottle of alcohol, and walked back to the couch. Then she kneeled on the ground and unscrewed the bottle. 

"Hope you don't mind Spike. Not that you don't have enough booze to hydrate half of Sunnydale already." She dampened the rag and began to gently wipe the blood off Spike's face. She worked slowly, carefully cleaning every part of his face. Weird as it was, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed touching his face, even if it was through the cloth. She even enjoyed staring at him, even though he wasn't staring back. _Stop kidding yourself Buffy…_

"Buffy?" Spike's weak voice reached her ears.

"Spike! How are you feeling?"

Spike managed to work his face into a glare.

"Ok, bad question."

"Well Pet I feel very… clean." Spike stated, slightly confused.

"Clean? How… unusual." Buffy cocked her head to the side, leering at him. 

"Very. And why do I smell like a drunkard?"

Buffy glared at him.

"Alrighty, bad question." Spike sighed and pushed himself into a semi-sitting position, wincing as he did so.

Buffy sighed and leaned back on the couch. 

"Am I boring you?" Spiked asked, only half joking.

"If you must know. Yes."

"_What_ a tragedy. The famous slayer reduced to babysitting a poor wounded vampire, her mortal enemy. We should get on Springer." He sneered.

"Har har. You know, I don't have to do this. I could leave any time." Buffy said. She was only slightly hurt. 

The two were silent for a moment, both of them running out of things to break the awkward silence. Buffy stared at Spike out of the corner of her eye. He was still sitting up on the couch, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked so forlorn. Buffy felt kinda sorry for him. 

"Look Spike, do you want me to go get Giles? I'm sure he can help. He knows more about this kind of stuff than I do."

"No. Stay." Spike said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He nonchalantly lit the cigarette and took a few puffs, lazily blowing the smoke above his head. Buffy coughed quietly.

"Ugh, gross Spike. I don't think that's going to help."

Spike shrugged and grinned at her. 

"It helps me relax." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She rolled her eyes and blushed. Spike leaned towards her.

"Oh yeah Slayer, one more thing.

"Hm?"

"You owe me a new door." He growled. 


	2. The Cushion Wallop

Buffy just stared at him.

"God, whatever. Can't you ever be serious for once?" 

Spike made a big show of thinking really hard about it. He raised an eyebrow and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Buffy giggled to herself. He looked so… cute doing that.

Spike, being a vampire and all, had heard the giggle and grinned, then laughed a little to himself. 

The two of them laughed softly for a moment before the chuckles died away. Buffy shifted nervously. She had the feeling she was supposed to say something, but couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Buffy had always hated awkward silences. She wished for anything to talk about, but this _was _Spike she was dealing with. What were they supposed to discuss? Their relationship? Though it would be nice to clear some things up, Buffy didn't think she could handle her growing attraction to him and his ever present love for her, after Buffy had tried so hard to push him away. She was actually starting to regret that now, but she would never admit that to herself, let alone Spike. 

Spike gently reached up and touched her on the arm. 

"Buffy? Are you ok?" Spike asked, concerned. 

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out.

Spike's mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"Come again?"

"I'm sorry… if I hurt you." She repeated quietly. 

Spike's mouth opened and closed a few times. His mind raced. _Sorry?  _He shook his head as if to rid himself of a thought. 

Buffy continued, ignoring Spike's confusion and discomfort. She had to get this said.

"I'm sorry that I pushed you away. I'm sorry I used you like I did. I know that I hurt you… in more ways than one. I realized that you truly loved me, but I didn't want to admit that to myself. I was scared of what that meant. I couldn't deal with that. I hated you, and for that… I am truly sorry."  
Buffy seemed to deflate, as if a large weight had been taken away and she no longer needed to put on the show of being fine, though Spike sensed she had something else to say.  Trying to hide his conflicting emotions, he hesitantly sat up further, pushing the pain the movement caused to the back of his mind.

"But?" he pressed.

Buffy sighed and looked away. She couldn't bring herself to stare at him. She didn't want to see the look on his face.

"But… I never loved you." She stated, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I could never bring myself to do it. No matter how desperate I was at times, I never truly loved you. I saw you as everything I was, but didn't want to be. I used you as a sort of reminder to myself. But there was never love, Spike… and I don't think there ever will be." She finished.

She could feel Spike's gaze on the back of her head. _Turn around, Buffy. Don't run away. No more running. She listened to her heart and slowly turned to the vampire. _

The first thing she saw was his eyes. Those blinding cerulean eyes that always seemed to be boring deep into her being. Those eyes that showed her such deep consuming love that it burned to gaze at them. But now they were filled with… an emotion that Buffy was surprised to find that she knew quite well. She wanted to say sorrow, but looking deeper she knew it was something different. Defeat seemed the closest. And… it hurt. He did everything to please her, told her that he loved her, a thousand times and counting.

"Buffy…" he reached out to touch her, but she cringed away. 

"Don't…" she whispered.

"Buffy." He said again and laid a hand on her arm. She yanked away, trembling. 

"Don't! …don't… love me." She pleaded, staring into his eyes. Those eyes… he loved her, but she couldn't give it back. She was too afraid; too terrified that she'd fall short. In his eyes, she was everything. In her eyes… there was only his reflection. And every time she heard the word 'love', Angel would come back to haunt her. The sight of his eyes staring into her, filled with nothing but love, the sight of his outstretched arm, reaching for her. But she let go. She had never held on to begin with. She had to… or at least that's what she told herself. 

"It wouldn't work, Spike! I thought I could do it with Angel, but I couldn't! It's just… not meant to be."

Spike stared silently at her. Buffy looked down at her feet, hiding her face. "I… can't. Please don't make me." She said quietly. 

Spike sighed and leaned back. "Then leave." 

Buffy's head jerked up to stare at him. "What?"

"Leave. You may not love me Buffy, but I sure as hell love you. But… I need some time, alright? That's a lot to put on a sick man."

Buffy bit her lip. "I'm sorry…"

"For God's sake, Buffy! Stop apologizing! You're confusing me! One day you're screaming at me, and the next day you're apologizing to me while calmly explaining why you can't love me."

Spike cocked his head to the side and peered at her. "Buffy… is it that time of the month?" 

Buffy stared at him. Then what he said slowly registered and her face turned into a mask of rage. She stood up, tore a cushion off the sofa, and walloped him in the face with it. Spike let out a cry of pain and clutched his now throbbing head.

"Good lord woman, are you insane?!"

"You JERK! Here I am, pouring my heart and soul out to you and apologizing for what a bitch I was being, and you think it's PMS! I take it all back, everything I said. _I hate you_!" she screamed, and stormed out of the crypt.

"HEY! That was a totally legitimate question!" he hollered after her. He was going to shout something a bit more vulgar after that, but he had to quickly duck as a large rock narrowly missed his head, flying in through the ruins on the crypt door.


End file.
